Gene of Isis

I stared back at him, praying to god that Akbar was wrong, when Kadar and Kamali yelled a warning to us to get out of the way.

The choppers had bypassed the helipad and were positioning themselves right over where we were standing. We retreated to watch the large container lower to the ground in front of us with a thud. The choppers then detached their towlines and returned to whence they’d come. In the wake of the commotion, a deathly silence ensued, or it certainly felt so by comparison.

The container had a door, which seemed to indicate that it was for habitation, but there was not a single window.

You should return to your tent, Mia, Albray advised as he appeared beside me. Molier won’t be able to exit the container until after sundown.

And then what will I do? I felt so unprepared. I still didn’t know half of what I felt I needed to know to confront Molier. I had to get back to Ashlee’s story and finish it.

I had no sooner turned toward the tent when the sound of the container door opening behind me scared me to a standstill—I was almost too afraid to turn.

‘Dr Montrose?’

Surprised to hear a female voice, my apprehension lessened and I turned to see a young woman walking toward me who was French judging by her accent. She was petite and dressed for an office in a suit, French bun, makeup and sensible boots.

‘Hello, I am Tusca Resi, Mr Molier’s private secretary.’ She held a hand out and I shook it, then she kissed me on both my cheeks. ‘Mr Molier has been greatly looking forward to meeting you.’

I am certain about that. Albray voiced what Akbar and I were both thinking.

‘My employer suggests that you might like to join him for dinner this evening, which will give you time to read this.’ Tusca pulled an old double-ended scroll from under her arm and held it out to me.

The wooden handles on the rods of the ancient text were ornately carved. The parchment was bound tight around one rod of the scroll and then secured to the matching rod at the top of the document. These were then bound to each other by a piece of red leather.

‘What is this?’ I accepted it, curious, and glancing to Albray to see what he made of this development I was alarmed to see his shocked expression.

‘I could not tell you,’ Tusca informed me, ‘but Mr Molier assured me that it would be of particular interest to you.’

‘I see. Well, thank Mr Molier for me.’

‘Would six o’clock this evening suit you for dinner?’ Tusca inquired and when I nodded she retreated to inform her employer.

‘You should not have agreed,’ Akbar said once Molier’s secretary was out of earshot.

‘He’s my employer, Akbar.’ I looked at the Arab in appeal. ‘What would you have had me say?’ When he gave no further comment, I headed for my tent. ‘If I am not prepared to hear everyone’s view regarding this excavation, then how am I to know I am getting the whole truth?’

‘That creature twists the truth.’ Akbar followed me and, gently grabbing hold of one of my shoulders, he brought me to a standstill to heed his words face to face. ‘Whatever he tells you, you may rest assured that just the opposite is true.’

‘Later, Akbar.’ I decided I wasn’t having this debate right now. I had way too much reading to do.

Inside my tent, Albray was just as discouraging. Please, Mia, do not read that document, Molier is trying to discredit me in your eyes.

My knight seemed overly dramatic, but in his thought conveyance I could hear and feel his distress. Do you recognise this? I held the scroll toward him and he nodded.

It is the journal of Lillet du Lac. He seemed almost nauseated when telling me this.

‘But I—’ I pulled myself up before speaking out loud. I thought you were in love with her?

I was…He seemed at a loss to explain for a second. But that does not mean that the feeling was mutual, for as I have already informed you, it was not. Albray was frustrated. You must understand Cathar belief to understand the woman who wrote this account, for I did not understand her for a long time and in the interim we had…a few clashes.

Have you read this document, Albray? I asked, feeling that he might be getting worked up over nothing.

I don’t have to read it, Albray barked, walking off his frustration for a few paces to collect himself. I was there.

Albray, my employer has asked me to read this and is probably going to test me on it over dinner. This was a joke, but Albray was not amused. Nothing could ever taint my high opinion of you. If this account is scathing, then I must concede this woman did not know you as well as I do.

Clearly, Albray knew that nothing he could say was going to stop me reading the homework I’d been given. Then please dismiss me, he requested, but you must promise to call me to you before you go anywhere near Molier.

Of course I shall call you. The idea of going alone was laughable.

Promise.